Beta and Alpha
by Joan Lalonde
Summary: No one looked out for them, only themselves. For the remainder of their life, they have been taking care of each other, leaning on one another for survival out in the streets of Japan. They have nothing to live for but each other. Once gone, no one would care. They could be thrown away and no one would ever know. However, this all changes when they receive an invitation.
1. Chapter 1- A Cold Bloody Murder

**Authors Note: Uh..Hello! This is my first fan fiction on this website and kinda nervous being a newb and all. I'm happy to receive any criticism and will respect your opinions :^D!**

 **Ive kinda had this idea a while in my head and decided to write it down and boom- this was made. I've been readin so many other fanfictions and uugh, they are so good and inspire the hell out of me... Welp, I'm done, enjoy!**

 **\- (ゝ .∂)**

" _Bang_ "

A shot roared throughout the damp alley way, few birds flying away at the sudden burst. Something as loud as this must have caught someone's attention.

People hearing gunshots usually caused alarm and they would immediately contact the authorities, as if they could do anything useful. It took these "Heroes" of crime a while until they actually got to the scene.

A thing like that couldn't have gone unnoticed or unheard.

Even though that it is true, the streets were lined up with cars, obnoxious barking filled the void and created a great cover, drowning out all other sounds. If it were not for this, the whole city could have surely heard it. This was a good area for doing some mischief after all, what with all this busy commotion. Any place like this was a good place in Tokyo, most of these buildings too old and not having that many residents. No witness. No suspicion.

Perfect place for a crime.

A large thud then followed soon after the first shot. A man, somewhere near the age of 30, fell straight down face first, right where he belonged. Grunting as he fell. Crimson red liquid quickly formed and spread around his body, soaking and staining his somewhat lean attire. Probably some cheap suit that looks expensive. Dress to impress is something they would say in big cities like these like it's their damn motto or somethin.

The shot was a little rusty, aim not quite precise and not exactly where the person intended to hit, but hey, it sure as hell got the job done.

The bullet seemed to be lodged up in there, maybe got stuck? It was right below his chest, hitting an organ or two, could have even hit bones.

Stuff like that didn't really matter though. How could it? They didn't give a damn. Only thing that matters now was that he wasn't alive and breathing. This made things easier, chit chats were boring and usually go no where, begging and pleading and all. Same procedure every time.

" _Please don't kill me! I'll do anything! You can take everything I got!_ " They would plead, tears running down their cheeks. Puffy faces and quivering lips were all too familiar. The more time they had their heart pumping the more pissy they would get. Other times it would be them screaming like a lunatic, seeking for help. Those were easy kills to do.

He was no different.

Twitching caught their eye. Soft whimpering escaped and rang right into their ears. Though he seemed lifeless, blood gushing out and all, he still managed to survive.

" _How lucky_ " a small dark chuckle echoes softly. Usually a single bullet could suffice but guess it wasn't enough for him. How lucky indeed.

Slowly a gun was raised back at him, this time they were going to end it. Cram it right into the little noggin of his. Getting paid would be hard if this guy was still breathing.

Sounds of shuffling shoes came closer and closer. Gun now connecting to head, making him wince in fear. Mixture of sweat and blood filled the air. Little gasps of air were taken that only caused him more pain, every gasp counted. Any second from now one of them could be his last. The thought itself was frightening to say the least.

" _Scared?_ " They asked in a whisper.

Scared? Being scared was an understatement. The man was terrified. Downright shivers spread throughout his body like wildfire. He wanted to live, he wanted to see his family again, he wanted to see his wife and kids. Why did this have to happen to him?

" _P..Please_ " Blood coughed out, looking straight up to the person behind the gun.

" _I-I'll give ya...all my money..._ " He cried out, tears running down. He only got paler and paler, the cold not helping much with the situation.

No response.

" _Everything i-is-_ " every word felt like needles were being forced into his throat. His voice raspy and unclear. Dying like this hurt like hell thats for sure. Taking small breaks, he continued.

" _At my..house...ta-take...everything_ " he pleaded.

No response.

" _I-I've got..a..wife..and ki-_ " before he could finish his sentence, shots were fired.

" _Boom_ "

Blood splattered. Gushing sound effects exploded, painting them with a deep red. Some even landing near the others shoes that stood from a good distance that quietly watched this whole time.

No signs of mercy were shown. No expressions that filled with remorse.

" _I don't give a shit about your life_ "

This man was a stranger. This was cold blooded murder. This was their job. This was their role. Even if they did feel sorry for the old geezer, this wouldn't stop them from killing the guy. People working at an estate is just the same as them assassinating, both working for the same goal.

Money.

A low snicker turned into laughter, replacing the silence, echoing from corner to corner. It grew louder and louder until they were hollering. Seeing men in this way, this position, brung them pure pleasure. They deserved the pain. And they sure as hell deserved those bullets. Hell, they would do this to any guy if they could.

The one laughin like an idiot belonged to a rather small figure, not higher than about 5 feet. The other one watching however was a tall fella. At least, to the shorty anyway.

The little runt towered over the limp rag doll, squatting. Kicking him from time to time while a smile plastered across their face. Surely he was dead now.

" _Pathetic_ " they taunted. "Didn't even muster a good fight, couldn't pay up either until the very end"

It was true. He was a business man that got sucked into the wrong crowd, owing money to more people than he could handle. Happens when you live care free. Not giving two shits about your actions and the consequences that follow right after. Only realizing your mistakes when your life is in danger, that's when they start giving a shit.

In a way...that's how they were, but more smarter than that retard. He thought he could pull a fast one because of how they looked and only laughed it off. Now they were the ones laughing...well...at least one of them was. You see, there were two of them. It didn't even seem to intimidate him until one pulled out a hand gun and started cussing him out. Now look at 'em. Exchanging freedom for money. They were gonna go to his house and take the money he owed anyways, him being dead or alive didn't really seem to matter.

The smug face before was now replaced by a fading expression, a hint of anger in their voice. They knew it all to well. Stuff like this happens all the time. The answer was simple.

" _Happens when your a man_ " she spat.

 **Sorry for it being a bit short, I promise to do longer ones in the future! Thanks for reading~**


	2. Chapter 2- The Mercenaries

**Authors Note- I have recently been reading the Team Fortress Comics and I LOVE THEM, they are such huge dorks and i wish everyone could see that..especially my friends, I have no one to talk to about these lovable characters QwQ tears tears. The only way to show my passion for this game is through fan fictions (ewe)/ sad sad but true. Anyways if i get something wrong, PLEASE tell me, i want to make changes right away. I don't want to ruin TF2 so please, if you would be so kind. Enjoy 6A6 (btw, this chapter is basically covering general things about TF2 that i have gathered from reading the comics, watching Youtube videos, and being on the wiki)**

Second turned into minutes.

The minutes turning into hours.

Hours in which then became days.

And those days becoming years.

This business has been going on for who knows how long, doing who knows what. Only causing the nearby town, Tuefort, trouble. This trouble would then be converted into hatred for this facility but, since the town is as dumb as nails (because of water being full of led causing their brain to deteriorate …don't ask) no serious problems occurred between the two, somewhat both living 'peacefully' next to each other. That would be the case if the members of this organization could stop stirring up trouble.

This place is known to be owned by both Redmond and Blutartch Mann. But because of their stubbornness and not wanting the other to gain accomplishment of taking control of the vast lands entrusted to them by their father, the two have been engaged in battle for years, hiring mercenaries. Little pawns of this everlasting game.

The "players" of this family competition fueled game all have a different role, each having specific strategies and different ways to react in battle. There is offense, in which the players are the main attack force, they rely on mobility. Defense, these players hold enemies back, having the most firepower. And finally the support class, they offer their comrades an extra edge in battle, helping in more ways than you could imagine. These roles in all make up this "game". The actions of the players can impact on whether they are victorious..or complete failures in all honesty. Teamwork is a vital key into winning and who doesn't like to win? In the end, they get they get their money and live happily, eh somewhat. Money is money after all.

Back onto the topic.

There was another player to this game however. Somewhere, just not in battle. This person wouldn't serve as an offense, defense, or support class. No, what they would do was watch from afar, mainly using cameras to surveil and keep these mercenaries in check in a surveillance room. Having complete influence and power, she would handle both teams of the Blu's/Red's and TF industries. Both teams not knowing this important info.

This made her all the more dangerous.

She is known as the Administrator. And if you read this far, she is a "total hag and a hella old cranky lady"… not my words.

By her side stood a rather loyal assistant, much younger than her employer. This assistant would preform a number of duties even though if she were to be against the idea, fear of her wrath. Reporting unusual background checks, ordering and delivery goods, opening communication channels and murders are some of what she would do.

She is known as Miss. Pauling.

 **This is only a preview for the chapter, will be writing more!**


End file.
